A/N: So so sorry about the long wait! I thought that I'd have more time now that I'm done with my studies but apparently it only means I work more... To make up for that, I wrote an extra long chapter :)

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or Criminal Minds.

"Baby, you don't know,
You don't know my mind.
When you see me laughing,
I'm laughing just to keep from crying."
Hugh Laurie, Don't know my mind.

"Diana, we gotta move."

Bobby stood behind me. I was on my knees, still holding Cas' trench coat. The tears dried on my face, replaced by emotional numbness, and I tried my hardest to shut the world out as I forced myself to stand up.

"I'm going," I heard myself saying as my feet took me towards where I parked Darlin.

"You can't go," someone - was it Dean? - said. "You literally just came back."

"I have no more reason to stay," I replied. My mind was taking me to that last resort I went to when I first met Cas, but every memory of him was just too painful. "And I have people to go to."

"Peanut..." Bobby started.

"Everybody I know dies." My voice broke.

"That's not -"

"I am sick of it!" I nearly screamed, finally letting the emotion come out. "I am sick, and tired of loving people only to lose them. I have worked my ass off, and what did it give me? Nothing!"

"It's exactly the opposite of what Cas would -"

"I don't care about what Cas wanted!" I said as the tears started dripping from my eyes. "I... I told him to work with Crowley. Pushed him towards it from stupid, selfish reasons and now he's... he's dead and it's all my fault. I just... I can't..." I felt the last bit of energy leaving my body. "I can't lose more people."

"But you will," Dean said. "What?" he said in response for the look Sam was giving him. "Life sucks and people die."

"He's right, Peanut," Bobby nodded. "Most of your friends are Feds. The rest are hunters. You will lose people. The only question is if you're gonna let it stop you from living or are you gonna show the world you just don't care anymore?"

"That's the problem, Uncle Bobby," I whispered. "I don't care anymore."

He sighed and rolled his eyes. "Of course that's what you take from my speech, not the motivation parts," he said.

I stood there in silence, waiting for the shivering to stop but it didn't.

"Peanut, you know I hate to ask but I got to," Bobby broke the silence. "Jennifer?"

I looked at him, water blurring my view again.

"Who's Jennifer?" Dean asked and I burst into tears.

Big hands wrapped me into a comforting hug and I cried into it as Dean picked me up and started carrying me away. From what felt like a huge distance, I could hear him talking.

"Sam, you take the motor, we'll take Baby. Meet us at Bobby's." From the shifting in his head I could only assume he turned to look at the older man. "You've got some explaining to do."

We walked to where we parked and at the sight of Darlin, my head cleared.

"The team," I mumbled.

"I'll call Dave," Bobby suggested.

"No," I said softly, still not managing enough energy to call out, the way I wanted to. "Call Hotch. He'll tell the others."

"I really think Dave will know what to do, Peanut," Bobby said, ignoring the confused looks on my brothers' faces.

"Dave will leave everything and come here," I said. "And that's the last thing I need right now."

I saw Sam wanted to ask something, but Dean marked him not to. Silently, he put me in the backseat of the Impala and drove away, Sam following close after on Darlin.

We hadn't exchanged a single word on the way, but the moment we arrived at Bobby, Sam couldn't hold it any longer.

"Who's Dave?" he asked. "Or Hotch? And what is that thing with Jenna?"

The name of my daughter cleared what little fog I had left, pulling me into reality.

"What do you remember of the year you were soulless?" I asked.

"Not much," Sam replied. "I remember things I've done, and I remember some of the creatures I fought." He paused. "I remember you."

"I was living in a cabin outside the town Dean was living with Lisa," I said. "Made sure nothing supernatural bothered with him having a life. But, to be honest, the story started even before that."

"How long before that?"

"When we were teenagers," I replied. "I had... have this dreams."

"Dreams of what?" Dean asked.

"You," Bobby replied. "She was dreaming of what was happening to you."

"Once I fell asleep, I started living the life you live," I said. "I was living your life with you, every minute of my sleep."

"How thoroughly?" Sam asked.

"You already know the answer," I said, shivering at the mere memory of that time. "When Dean was in Hell, I... I went to sleep and lived a whole day in Hell, unable to move, scream or even beg, only to wake up and find out I slept for barely five minutes. And at a certain point, I couldn't take it any longer. I tried to kill myself," I explained, skipping over my addiction and ignoring the look on Bobby's face. He, of course, knew nothing of that part. "I sat on the bathroom floor, ready to make that cut when Castiel appeared. He told me it would end soon and forced me to sleep. That was the night you were pulled out."

"Why did he save you?" Sam asked.

I thought about the prophecy and all that came with it. "I don't know." I lied. "But starting this point, my life got back to how they were before. I met a man, fell in love, got engaged..." I paused for a moment, the memories of Daniel being too hard for me to bare. "And I cheated on him – repeatedly – with Cas."

"I already knew that," Sam muttered, rubbing his head. "When I was possessed by Lucifer, I…"

"He gave us an opportunity to talk to each other," I reminded him. "It was… weird, and sad, and disorienting."

"So you and Cas were… what?" Dean asked.

"Lovers, dating…" I sighed. "It doesn't matter how you call it. You just need to know what it led to."

"Jenna," Bobby said as understanding dawned him. "Balls."

"Can somebody please tell me who the hell is Jenna?" Dean asked.

I looked at him, trying to stop the tears from rising to my eyes once again at the thought that he never knew her. "Your niece."

"A niece?" Sam asked. "We've got a niece? You..." he looked at Dean, then at Bobby and me again. "You have a child?"

"Had," I whispered.

"What?" Dean asked.

"Had a child," I said. "You knew the Child of Creation lost her kid and husband. The fact that I'm the Child of Creation doesn't change it."

"Who?" Dean said in a voice that promised sorrow.

"Raphael," I replied. "That was one of the reasons I told Cas he should…" once again, I couldn't bring myself to finish that sentence, instead looking down at my feet.

"This is for Jenna," Sam said in understanding. "That was what Cas said right before he killed Raphael."

"Cas did a lot of things in the name of vengeance over what the other angels did," I said bitterly. "Most of them weren't right."

"Wait," Dean said, looking thoughtful. "If you and Cas dated, so when he was God, you were –"

"His ex," I replied. "I cut it off with Castiel as soon as he broke the wall in Sam's head."

"You took my place in the deal with Death," Dean said. "You saved our lives…"

"Almost as often as my actions threatened it," I retorted. "Let's not keep score, alright?"

"Sorry," Dean said. "It's just… It's a lot to comprehend."

"I think we should all sleep over it," Bobby cut in. "It's been a rough night, and we all could use some rest."

"I'll be in my room," I said, standing up and leaving.

"Diana!" Dean called out after me, and I turned to look at him. "This conversation isn't over."

"I know," I said sadly, turning my back at him once more and entering my room.

I waited until no sounds were heard from the corridor before I snuck out. I wasn't sure if the others were sleeping or just talking about me downstairs, but either way I had enough experience in my teen years with running away from Bobby's house and – though to a lesser degree – sneaking back in.

It didn't take much to find what I was looking for. I found it in the first Pharmacy I entered, and walked out of it less than five minutes with a lighter wallet but a heavier heart.

I snuck back in, making sure I wasn't seen, and set the package on my bedside table. Then, I took a long, hot shower to try – unsuccessfully – to wash off the previous night and calm myself enough so that my conscious would stop screaming at me for being an idiot – both for what I've done and for what I was about to do.

I finished the shower and walked out, changing to a pair of shorts and a tight tank top, before reopening the package.

Dilaudid. It's been so long since I took it willingly. About four years, if my counting was not mistaken. Carefully, I took a syringe and inserted the drug into it, the action followed closely by preparing my arm.

I heard sounds coming from downstairs – someone arrived and was calling out in a familiar voice – but I pushed it to the back of my mind. I didn't flinch when footsteps ran up the stairs, only positioning the syringe for the injection and didn't even blink when the door burst open.

The voice that spoke stopped me, though.

"Diana," it said slowly. "Put it down."

"I thought you agreed to call Hotch," I told Bobby. Despite the fact that my back was facing the door, I knew he and my brothers were there.

"No," Bobby said. "I agreed not to call Dave."

"Diana, put the syringe down," Spencer said once more, causing me to tilt my head and look at him.

The syringe stayed right where it was, only a thin layer of skin stopping it from entering my vein.

"Or what?" I asked, my voice lacking all emotion. "I have nothing to lose anymore, Spence, and I… I just want to sleep."

"So sleep," he replied. "You don't need this to sleep."

"But I do need it to forget," I said. "Because when I'm awake, I remember, and even if I'll fall asleep…"

Even if I fall asleep, Dean, Sam and Bobby wouldn't, I finished silently. And they'll talk. They'll talk about me. About Cas.

"I need to forget," I said again. "And this is the only thing that helps."

"So stop trying to forget," Spencer said. "I told you weeks ago, you're pushing it to the back of your mind and then it explodes. It already had, and now you're turning on drugs again."

"You did say that," I agreed. "And then you helped me forget. Do you want to help me forget again, Spencer?"

"You need to sort yourself out," Spencer replied instead. "You'll go to a thousand meetings, go to a therapist if that's what it takes. I'm not doing anything before you do."

"Well, I am," I muttered, focusing back on the needle.

"Then I'll tell Hotch," Spencer said determinedly. "And Rossi, and Morgan, and Garcia, and Strauss, if that's what it takes. You're my best friend, Chessi and, as your best friend, I refuse to let you throw away everything you've worked for."

"I don't need to throw it away," I said, choking back tears. "It's already gone."

"Is it?" he questioned. "Because, the way I see it, you have two families that would do anything for you. One that is right outside this door waiting for you to get yourself together, and another that is on the edge of their seats, waiting for a call from me – a call I'm not going to make until I'm certain you're alright."

"Well, I'm not alright!" I called. "And I won't be! It's all my fault! If I wasn't the Child of Creation, Raphael wouldn't have killed Jenna and Daniel, and then Cas wouldn't have worked with Crowley to revenge her death!"

"Jenna was a Nephilim," Spencer said softly. "I know it's hard to hear, but they would have killed her either way."

"Then it's still my fault, for being stupid enough to get pregnant from an angel."

"Chessi…"

A warm hand touched my shoulder, and I felt the needle fall from my hand and dropping to the floor. Without thinking, I turned around and grasped the back of Spencer's t-shirt as I sobbed for all I have lost, and for all that I missed.

I cried for running away when I was eighteen, and for not contacting my brothers before. I cried for my relationship with John, and for how I almost didn't have the chance to fix it before it was too late. I cried for Tobias Hankle and Charles, and for the scars – physical and mental – they left both in me and in Spencer.

I cried for Ash, my first love, and for not being able to stop his death. I cried for Daniel, my husband, and all the lies I told him. I cried for Jenna, who was so young when she died and who never had the chance of having the life she deserved. And, most of all, I cried for Cas.

I cried for Cas, unable to shake the feeling that it was my fault he had gone after Raphael. I cried for Cas, and what he had become when he swallowed all of the souls from Purgatory. I cried for Cas, and for not having the chance to fix what had broken between us before he was gone again, this time irretrievable – because I tried so hard to bring him back like I did in the last two times, and failed.

And, eventually, I ran out of tears.

Spencer laid me down on my bed, soothing me to sleep, but almost as soon as my eyes closed I was in Dean's mind, watching Spencer and myself on the bed.

"What the hell was that?" Sam asked. "Dee… Diana's doing drugs?"

"If you want to talk about your sister behind her back, wait until she's awake," Spencer said, looking straight at me through Dean's eyes. "Not until she's asleep."

"Why?" Dean asked.

"She must have told you about her dreams," Spencer told them. "She sees and hears everything you see or hear right now." He waved at Dean's direction, and I couldn't help but smile inwardly – since it was the only option – knowing it was directed to me.

"You look familiar," Sam said, rubbing his temple. "Have we met before?"

"Right after the Apocalypse started," Spencer replied, ushering them out of my room. "Daniel and I came to pick her up from Chuck's."

"But who are you?" Dean asked. "I mean, I get it that you look familiar, and I vaguely recognize your name, but who are you to Diana?"

"The one she tells everything to," Spencer replied simply. "Also known as her best friend."

"Best friend?" Dean questioned. "Diana doesn't do best friends."

"You would know so well seeing as you barely spoke to her in the past fourteen years," Spencer retorted, echoing my thoughts. "She had changed. She's a different person. The Diana you used to know isn't Chessi."

"No," Dean said bitterly. "Apparently, 'Chessi' is the friggin Child of Creation who had seen us about a dozen times and refused to let us know who she was."

"She had a family," Spencer said.

"She didn't contact us even after her family died," Sam said.

"I wasn't talking about Daniel and Jenna," Spencer replied. "I was talking about our team. Hotch, JJ, Morgan, Garcia, Rossi –"

"Rossi?" Dean asked. "David Rossi, who was Mom's friend? David Rossi, who came to pick her up after the case with the baby Shapeshifter?"

"Dave Rossi, who is your Godfather," Spencer told him. "And who is trying very hard to make up the lost time to her."

"But not to us?"

"He's doing his best," Spencer sighed. "And it's very hard for him, so a little more appreciation in his name would be nice."

"Appreciation?" Sam asked. "Where was he when Dad took us on hunts and left Dean and Diana in a motel room with some extra cash and a gun?"

"Using every FBI resource he could get his hands on trying to locate you," Spencer replied curtly. "Now, Dean, Diana is sleeping, and I'm pretty sure that she doesn't really appreciate the fact that this conversation is happening without her. So do you mind going to sleep?"

"Why?" Dean mocked. "Because if I sleep, she sees my dreams?"

"Exactly."

Dean raised an eyebrow, but headed towards his room nonetheless. From behind him, I could hear Bobby telling Spencer they've got a lot to talk about, and the sound of a door closing.

When I woke up, I didn't open my eyes right away. I knew who was sitting at my bedside, and I knew I wasn't in the right state to deal with him – if I'll ever be. Between my exhaustion and my grief yesterday, I revealed more than was healthy for my brothers to comprehend in such a small period of time, and Spencer filled in the rest.

I laid there for what felt like hours – though I knew no more than a couple of minutes had passed, at most – before giving up and opening my eyes. It was the very early hours of morning, and the sun was only starting to light the sky.

"Hey," I said hoarsely, letting Dean know I was awake.

I was expecting some sort of witty reaction along the lines of, "Good morning sleeping beauty," which was why I was more than a bit surprised to receive nothing more than an echoed, hoarse, "Hey."

I stayed silent for a couple more moments, waiting for him to say something before asking, rather stupidly, "How are you?"

"I've been better," Dean shrugged nonchalantly, though poison was lacing his voice. "After all, it's not every day that my best friend betrays me, loses his sanity, dies and then resurrected for just long enough for him to release human eating monsters from before the dawn of history into the water main – and then dies again."

I cringed at the mention of Castiel and his actions – most of which caused by things I've told him, our daughter of the fact that I was the Child of Creation. It was hard not to blame myself for everything that happened, especially since it was, after all, my fault.

"Then," Dean went on, perhaps oblivious to the way his words affected me and perhaps simple not caring, "I found out that my twin sister – whom I haven't seen in close to fourteen years – had been lying to me and actively hiding who and what she was, even when she was

right in front of me. All while sleeping with said best friend."

"I never meant to –" I started, but Dean cut me off.

"And, if we're glazing through her dead husband and kid, her past drug addiction and the fact she's sleeping with her best friend, as well, we still got Sam thinking he's still in the Cage. So, yeah," Dean summed up bitterly. "I've had better days."

He looked at me, clearly waiting for a response now that he finished his ranting but every retort I had in mind during his speech had been completely wiped out.

"Sam thinks he's still in the Cage?" I asked, earning myself an annoyed glare from my brother.

"Yeah," he replied. "He's been a bit off ever since Cas broke the wall, and Death said he's been having hallucinations but he seemed fine –"

"He had something to focus on," I muttered. "It delayed the symptoms, releasing them in small doses – the hallucinations. Now that he lost focus, it's gonna get a lot harder."

"And how do you know that?" Dean asked. "Did you become an expert on supernatural walls in your mind during the fourteen years you've been missing?"

"Actually, I have," I retorted. "Having a wall break down in your brain kinda makes you an expert."

"You had a wall breaking in your head?" Dean questioned. "How did that happen?"

"Lilith," I replied shortly.

"Lilith put a wall in your head?" Dean asked, confused.

"Lilith broke the wall in my head," I corrected. "John put it there."

"What? Why?"

"Lilith." Dean looked at me oddly and I sighed. "There was a reason John left me at Bobby's," I said. "She possessed me and showed him just how vulnerable I was. I had nightmares, so he saw a mage to build a wall in my mind before dropping me here and driving away."

"You and I both know it wasn't that simple," Dean scolded.

"I know it now," I said. "I didn't know it when I was twelve. Or eighteen, for that matter."

"What did you focus on after Lilith broke the wall?" Dean asked.

"Ash died, you sold your soul and was heading towards Hell and you, Sam and Bobby didn't answer any of my calls," I replied. "That, and Gideon – who was practically Spencer and my mentor – left."

"Well, it wasn't such a peachy time for us, too," Dean grunted.

"Never said it was," I said. "But I'm still allowed to be mad at you for not answering."

"I can still be mad at you for not calling sooner," he retorted. "Or later, for that matter." He sighed. "Can you fix Sam's wall?"

"No," I replied simply. "This is way beyond what Gabe taught me, and I don't think it would be smart to start messing with Sam's head without knowing what I'm doing."

"What did Gabe teach you, anyway?" Dean asked, stretching the nickname in his mouth mockingly. "You know, except telepathy, becoming invisible and lying?"

"All sorts," I said, opening my palm and handing Dean the fruit I just created from thin air. "Want an apple?"

The only response I received was a groan, followed by my twin's departure from the room.

I sighed, pulling myself out of the bed and looking through the clothes in my closet. Most of what I had in there were clothes I wore as a teen, but as my choice of clothes then was quite similar to what it was now – long jeans and a unisex t-shirt – I managed to find clothes that weren't too small and headed to the shower.

As the burning hot water poured over my head, I thought about my disturbed sleep last night and realized that it wasn't all because of the events that came earlier, but also because of the fact that I wasn't used to sleep alone.

Ever since I started seeing Daniel, almost four years ago – the thought of him still stung – I was sharing my bed with someone. At first, it was him, and later it moved between him and Castiel. There was, of course, the time I spent in the parallel universe during the Apocalypse, but after that, I had Cas again.

I had Cas during the last days of the Apocalypse. I had Cas when Sam was in the Cage and Dean lived with Lisa. Even after I returned to the team, the only times I didn't spend the night with Cas was when I shared a room – and later a bed – with Spencer.

Spence. The thought made me feel ashamed of myself. At the bottom line, I used him to forget about my troubles, and I didn't even have the decency to tell him about it before yesterday.

One more name to add to the list of people I hurt with my selfishness – Dean, Sam, Ash, Cas, Bobby…

I sighed again. I didn't even want to think about Bobby.

I finished the shower and dressed myself before walking downstairs and entering the kitchen. As soon as Dean and Bobby saw me, they became silent.

"I see you're taking the whole 'Waiting until I'm awake to talk about me behind my back' seriously," I said, pouring myself a cup of coffee and briefly wondering where Spencer was.

"We'd rather not have to talk about you behind your back at all," Bobby said gruffly.

"Why am I finding that hard to believe?" I muttered.

"You're the one who hid the fact that she was the friggin Child of Creation from us," Dean retorted.

"I didn't think you'd want me there if you knew it was me," I said, only half-lying. "After all, you did avoid me before you went to Hell."

"I'm so sorry it took nine years and selling my soul for you to start caring about me," Dean said sarcastically.

"I always cared about you," I told him. "You're the one who never cared about me."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You keep giving me a hard time for not being there for you," I said. "You weren't there for me even when I was here."

"That's not true," Dean protested.

"I have six years of living at the Salvage Yard to prove differently," I said.

"Would the two of you stop it already?" Bobby cut in impatiently. "You're family, for crying out loud! Start acting like one!"

"I always –"

"No, you didn't," Bobby told Dean. "And neither has she." He sighed. "I know that fourteen years are a long time. Trust me, I know. But you guys gotta live through it. If not for each other, then for me – and if not for me, then for Sam."

"I want to get through with it already," I muttered. "But only if he's going to try as well." I looked at my brother, unable to hide the hope in my eyes. "Will you try as well?"

Dean was silent for a couple of moments before opening his mouth to respond. However, before he could let a single sound out, Spencer walked into the kitchen.

"The team is on the line," he told me shortly, avoiding my eyes. "Apparently, there's something important we need to hear."

I sighed, following him as he left the room without looking back at Dean. I wasn't sure if I wanted to hear his response.

"She's here," Spencer said into the phone speaker as we stood in Bobby's study.

From the corner of my eye, I could see Dean standing in the doorway and listening in, but I pushed it to the back of my mind.

"Who else is missing?" Morgan asked.

"Garcia and Hotch," Rossi replied.

"Anybody knows what with the morning call?" I questioned.

"Not a clue," Seaver shrugged.

"How are you?" Rossi asked, and from the fatherly tome he used I knew, even through the phone, that he was addressing me.

"I've been worse," I shrugged.

"he haven't been worse," Spencer cut in, earning himself a m=smack at the ribs. "Ow!" he called. "She hit me!"

"Kids," Morgan said, a note of amusement to his voice. "Behave."

"Don't fake it, darling," I told him with a smile. "I learned all of my best tricks from you."

He laughed as the sound of am=n opening door was heard, followed by Garcia's "Where's Hotch?"

"Any minute," Rossi replied.

"I didn't get a file sent to me," she said. "Did a case go directly to him?"

"Don't know."

"When's the last time he called a meeting this early?" Seaver asked.

"Three years and eight months ago," Spencer replied immediately, the information etched into his brain.

"What happened?" she asked.

Spencer was silent for a moment and I reached out to grasp his hand, taking comfort in the fact he let me.

"Gideon left," I said, pressing Spencer's hand as I felt him stiffen next to me.

"Who's leaving?" Garcia asked, sounding scared.

"Surprisingly, not me," I said in a half-hearted attempt to lighten the mood.

"Nobody's leaving," Morgan said sternly, and silence followed this statement until Hotch walked into the room.

"I appreciate you coming in so early," he said. "Chessi… I'm sorry for your loss."

"Don't mention it," I said quickly. "Seriously, don't."

"What's going on?" Rossi asked.

"The director called a meeting last night to discuss budget," Hotch replied.

"They skipped over Strauss?"

"She's away," Hotch said shortly. "Over the next few weeks, each of you is going to be asked if you'd like to stay with the unit."

"Why wouldn't we?" Spencer asked.

"There are other options for you out there," Hotch explained. "And while I want the unit to stay together, I understand completely if you want to see what the alternatives are. Morgan, there's renewed interest in you from the New York office."

"Nobody's called me," Morgan said, confused.

"They will," Hotch told him. "And Chessi – I've been contacted from the undercover unit about you."

"You have?" I asked. "Why didn't you tell me about it?"

"You were… away."

"That doesn't mean we're gonna go," Morgan said.

"I know," Hotch replied.

"Are you staying here?" Seaver asked.

"It's my intention," he said. "All I ask is if you are contacted by another division that you let me know."

I looked at Spencer, confused and in shock as we both heard Hotch answering another phone call from the other end of the line.

"Virginia State Police believe they've uncovered a serial killer," he said as he hung up. "They need us at Zacha Road and Route Seven as soon as possible. Morgan, you and Dave get out there."

"What about this?" Rossi asked.

"We can talk about it later," Hotch sighed before the sound of ruffling papers and moving chairs was heard, and the call disconnected.

Spencer looked at me for a moment before moving his eyes down to stare at our intertwined hands.

"We stay together," I said. "No matter what."

"No matter what," Spencer agreed quietly, his statement followed by a comfortable silence that was broken only when Dean spoke.

"Go," he told me. "I know you want to go. Your family needs you."

"You guys are my family," I told him.

"That we are," Dean said, his eyes darting to look at Spencer for a moment before returning to me. "But we're not the only one anymore."

I let go of Spencer's hand, throwing my arms around Dean in a hug he returned somewhat awkwardly.

"Thank you," I whispered in his ear.

"Don't mention it," he replied. "Seriously, don't."